Life With a Psychopath
by The Sennin
Summary: To elude hypothermia and frostbite, after being tortured, Harry makes his way to a park-one that has a deserted blanket. In a freakish turn of events, Tom Riddle learns Harry is a Parselmouth, intrigued Tom takes Harry in. How will Harry take living with a Psychopath? How will this affect his life?
1. Chapter 1

Life With a Psychopath

Chapter 1

* * *

"Hurry up boy," Harry shivered at the pure malice in his uncles voice.

He quickly pulled the last of the weeds out of the flower garden- not wanting to further enrage Vernon; his punishment for being slow was already to the point of getting bones broken.

Harry strained to stand, his week bones barely holding up his malnourished thin body. Every step he took was a struggle, made only by his will power to not increase his looming punishment.

Carefully opening the back door he stepped into the took note of the fact that his relatives were in the living room-TV blasting. Hope blossomed; perhaps he could sneak to his cupboard, and elude his punishment. he quickly smothered the tiny shred; he was not going to allow myself to get discouraged. That being said he wasn't going to just waltz in there and ask to be beaten. he quietly wiped his feet before making his way to his cupboard.

He slowly closed the cupboard door behind him to decrease the noise, letting out a nearly inaudible sigh. It seemed that he thwarted his beating, for now anyway. He nearly cried when his aunt let out a blood curling scream- what had he done this time. He was frozen with fear at the sound of his uncle's heavy footsteps making their way to his door. The door was then ripped open by an enraged Vernon, his face was an ugly red and there was a large vain throbbing on his forehead, telling Harry he was immensely enraged.

The light from the hallway immediately told him he was doomed; he could see a thin trail of blood. he hadn't noticed one of his recent wounds reopened, dripping blood on petunia's clean carpet.

Vernon then harshly kicked his shin, making his legs give out; he fell to the floor, blood already forming a puddle. A blow was then delivered to his ribs, making him gasp for air before a kick to the head lead darkness to consume him.

* * *

He awoke in the freezing cold, barely able open his eyes. He fought a headache examining his surroundings, deducting that he was outside. he laid there for a couple minutes trying to make sense of my situation, before remembering the recent events.

Groaning he tried to sit up, only to fall to the ground as pain nearly made him pass out. After several careful tries he painfully sat up. It was only then that he realized he was wet, and by the dim light of the street lamp it appeared to be a mixture of blood and water-cold water. Harry didn't know much about medical care, but from the little he had gained from petunia's medical shows, he knew that if he didn't do something he was going to freeze to death, what was that called, oh ya, hypothermia.

he decided to go to the only haven he had- the park. Although he had several beatings from Dudley there it was the only place he knew to go. He remembered seeing a blanket there, left for unknown reasons, it was his only chance at keeping warm, and after all he didn't want to die of hypothermia.

Gathering his little strength and will power,he forced himself to stand. Shivering from pain, and the cold he struggled to my feet. It was only to his utter amazement that his legs didn't give out.

Forcing himself to take a step, he nearly yelped as pain shot through his entire body. Again his need for survival forced him to go on. he cringed and suppressed a yelp at every step. Reaching his destination he scanned the dimly lit park, there was 3 faded yellow swing sets, a green teeter-totter, and a structure connecting metal monkey-bars and a large dark blue slide, with a wooden bridge. Immediately noticing the dark purple bundled up blanket near the slide, nearly crying with joy, he half stumbled, half crawled to the large slide- where underneath the blanket dwelled. He slowly removed his blood and water soaked baggy hand-me-downs before wrapping himself in the blanket, marveling in the warm protection he slipped into unconsciousness.

he slowly opened his eyes, only to be confused; it was still dark why had he woken up? he fought past his fuzziness to scan his surroundings, only to whimper at the pain as he lifted my head, he then noticed a group of people- now he knew why he woke up, they were about fifteen feet away. he immediately regretted the whimper as they all turned to his direction. Shit.

* * *

"Of course I'm not dead," sneered Tom "did you honestly think a two year old could defeat me."

"Forgive me lord, but if I may ask how did you survive?" boldly questioned Pettigrew.

he momentarily debated whether to answer or torture the rat for his question; seeing the scarred look on the rats face he decided to answer- he would torture him later. "I did cast a killing curse that rebounded," he ignored the sigh from the rat at his decision "however it did not kill me, it instead caused a massive explosion. After healing I decided to allow the silly rumor of my death, deciding it would be the ultimate test for my death eaters," he smirked maliciously as the rat paled; having discovered he failed the test- and it would not go unpunished.

"Now for the reason of my arrival," he paused, making sure all my Death Eaters were listening. "I am collecting ingredients for a ritual," he decided to leave out that the ritual would allow him to create shi magic, magic that would immediately torture anyone he wanted-to the point of death just by touching them. "I have arranged this meeting to assign you your item to collect," he watched as they drank in every word. "Bellatrix you will collect the souls of sixteen muggles, hence why were in a muggle town," he gave Bellatrix a silver lighter looking device to collect the souls in, she knew how to use it, he didn't have to explain. "Lucius you will collect an ancient tome called 'shi the ultimate power', I believe you have it in your private library," by lucius' nod it was clear he under stood. "Peter you will collect a phoenix tear, you will get this from Dumbledore phoenix, his collection of tears are in his office," he made sure to add extra malice in my voice, what could he say he loved the look of terror on the rats face; he is a sadistic after all.

He was about to dismiss his death eaters, but was distracted when he heard a suffering whimper near the large blue slide. His familiar Nagini immediately slithered to the annoyance- it was probably a tramp.

:: kill it; I don't want to stay here any longer,:: he ordered my snake.

The purple lump abruptly jumped, whimpering again in pain before panicking at the sight of his large green snake. Nagini quickly slithered closer to her destination, making the outline of the human quiver in fear. A sadistic smirked found its way to his face, he loved the fear his snake brought.

Nagini slithered, closer now, within striking distance, she waited a couple seconds before jumping from her spot and sinking her fangs into the figures leg, causing a pain laced :: stop,:: before the form fainted from pain.

Nagini immediately obeyed, all snakes have to obey parseltongue whether they want to or not.

His attention was immediately caught, he didn't think he heard correctly, but Nagini had obeyed so he hade to dismiss the thought. He strode over to Nagini- in the very least he was intrigued, ::Nagini is he a Parselmouth?:: he questioned looking at the now unconscious form before him.

:: Yes master:: answered Nagini, he made the decision to take the boy with him.

"Lucius take this boy to your manor; I want him taken care of. Tend to his injuries as well," he ignored the disgust on lucius' face, "you are all dismissed, notify me when you have collected your item."

After making sure all his death Eaters were on their way, he apparated to his current lodging- lucius' manor. He strode down the hallway to his private quarters; it seems he had found a new toy.

* * *

Harry lifted his heavy eyelids to the world around him, only to immediately close them; the world around him was way too bright. He laid there listening, although he didn't get much information, he had a migraine, it was even hard to think.

He could hear footsteps as someone entered the room, they moved closer, sitting near him. He opened his eyes again, forcing them to adjust to the blinding light. He looked at the person who entered the room, they had a large crooked nose, and black greasy hair- he almost emptied his stomach, although mostly not because of the man.

"What's your name?" questioned the man.

"H…Harry Po...tter," he rasped. The man's eyes widened. He was so confused; there were so many things He wanted to ask. Where am I? How did I get here? Where is here?

"Unless you want to get yourself killed, I advise on not calling yourself Harry" whispered the man.

His statement just made Harry even more confused, what's wrong with his name? he tried to ask the man but his voice failed him, coming out as a wheeze. The dryness of his throat caused a coughing fit, he covered his mouth with the gray blanket surrounding him- it came out covered in blood.

Just then a pale blond haired man walked in, he looked at Harry in disgust before giving orders to the greasy haired man.

"Severus, Lord Voldemort has ordered that this boy be healed, as you can tell his condition is terrible. Fix him to the best of your ability, I wouldn't be surprised if he died," he again looked at me in disgust before leaving the room.

Severus turned to me before he pulled out a wand and started casting. It didn't hurt but the feeling was definitely unpleasant. When he was done casting he grabbed a black bag, pulling out many vials filled with strange colored liquid.

He grabbed a vial filled with translucent orange liquid before grabbing harry's chin-he flinched fiercely, but the man didn't let go. He pressed the open vial to my lips, forcing the orange liquid down; I had another coughing fit- also leaving a blood stain.

After around ten liquid filled vials, the man stood up, gathered his things and left. Harry could hear him walk down the hallway, meeting someone.

"Hello Lord, I healed him to the best of my ability," Severus informed.

"Thank you," was the man's reply before he uttered a spell "obliviate." I cringed at the man's scream, headache still pounding.

The man then walked into the room, he was pale and muscular. He gracefully strode over to the bed I was currently staying in, not even a strand of his neat black hair was displaced.

The man sat at a chair near my current bed, his entrancing purple eyes meeting mine. I quickly looked away, petunia and Vernon hated having eye contact with me, and this man would surely hit me for displeasing him, as they had. I tensed waiting for the strike, it was no use trying to evade it, and I would only get hit harder.

When the strike did not come I worried, would this man do something worse- he had often been kicked or burned, occasionally sliced with Vernon's pocket knife.

"Look at me," the man ordered. I hesitantly lifted my head, forcing my eyes to meet his, when our eyes meet a presence entered my mind.

"relax little one, I will not harm you,' even though the man said this, he did not believe him. "What is your name," questioned the dark haired man. Thinking furiously for a name, I remembered one. he opened his mouth to speak, but what was meant to be a name sounded like a suppressed sneeze.

A small glass of water was pushed to his lips, he drank slowly- never before had water tasted so delicious. After as many gulps as he could muster, he cleared my throat to speak.

"Hadrius," it still sounded raspy, but it was clear enough to hear.

A smile quirked the man's lips, "you can call me Tom."

* * *

Please tell me what you think!

Should I write more about Hadrius and Tom?

Please review.

I know my grammar, spelling; punctuation…ect is not the best.

Would anyone like to beta my story? PM me if you are interested!

If the story is liked, the next chapter will be out soon.

Thanks for Reading!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: all I have to say is that I'm truly deeply extremely sorry this took so long, I was attacked by writers block, and a family friend stayed over –in my room- and I was unable to get any writing done for those weeks. I will assure you that the next chapter will not take so long!

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Harry Potter, although I would like to I know that's probably never going to happen. Also I forgot to add this in last chapter, sorry.

"I'm…I'm-Sorryy-myy- Lord… I couldn't-couldn't… help-it… you-have-to-believe-me...," Tom looked down in disgust at the filthy failure pleading and begging for his forgiveness. Pettigrew had failed, alerting the old goat, Dumbledore, that the dark side was getting stronger. He sent another Crucio at the failure tugging his robe, relishing in the screams as the rat withered on the floor in agony. He halted the curse. Unfortunately, he still needed the rat for the Phoenix tear. The old goat probably suspected he was still alive already; killing the rat would only announce his presence to England- something he wasn't quite ready to do. Damn, it would seem he'd have to do something to contain this slip up. He left the dark, grey room, a sadistic smile finding its way to his face at the thought of all the suffering the rat would go through, - he knew Pettigrew hated annoying him and was probably 'kicking himself' over it now.

Tom strode down the hallway to Lucius' study; he was going to deal with this mess now. His thoughts were immediately interrupted, steps coming to an abrupt halt caused by a small black haired boy, peeking out from behind a door. "Tom…?" It was a barely a whisper, laced with the boys urge to ask a question.

"Yes?" His mask was immediately up, making his voice sound soft and caring. , He gave the boy his full attention.

Hadrius' cheeks flushed, he quickly looked down. "Umm… I was wondering…. What is my job?" the boy stuttered. He looked like a child who overslept for school and was awaiting his punishment. Tom couldn't stop the question that crossed his mind; what makes the boy think he has to do anything?

"You will not have a job, you are a guest here." His words elicited him a look as if he had three heads. He almost burst out laughing.

"But… I must have a job," Hadrius said, looking completely serious.

"No Hadrius, you will not have a job here," he stated becoming serious.

"Tom…please, how else will I show that I'm worth enough to stay here?" the boy seemed stubborn on the topic.

"No.," He was not going to deal with this, he had had enough already. "That's final."

"Can I cook then, can I make you lunch?" the boys' boy's eyes were hopeful.

"No, we already have servants to cook," A look of disappointment crossed the boy's killing curse-colored eyes.

"Please, I know how to cook. I want to make it up to you," he was begging to get frustrated. He was beginning to get frustrated. The boy was not a slave, nor a house elf, and he was not going to act like one.

"No, that's final."

"I can make your favorite, anything!" The boy insisted.

"No, we are not going to have this conversation. You are not a slave and you are not cooking!" He allowed a small hint of annoyance, impatience, and anger in his voice to show the boy that what he thought of the conversation. Up until this point he had put his mask up, not showing any emotion.

"You don't have to act like a slave to show your appreciation to someone." The boy showed a hint of anger. Apparently his newest toy was sensitive to the subject of slaves. He'd have to discover why later. He was already wasting time- he needed to sort out this Pettigrew mess before it got out of hand.

"Fine then, act like a slave," he relented. He needed to sort out Pettigrew's mess, not fight with a stubborn child- with that thought he walked off.

Thoughts filled Tom's head as he walked to Lucius' study. He knew he should have just let the child cook for him, but he didn't want the boy to act like a slave. The memories were still vivid from his time in the orphanage; he would not allow himself to treat a child like he was treated there. Yes, it was oddly uncharacteristic of him, but he didn't want any wizard child –which he knew the boy was- to feel as he did. Of course he would never make his feelings bluntly obvious, although he feared he was close.

A lot of people believed Tom to have no feelings. They were wrong. He did have feelings- they were just normally hidden. He had no idea how these crazy rumors started, as he obviously showed he had feelings, when his death eaters failed, he showed his anger and punished them, when he tortures, he shows sadistic joy. Yes, he had feelings; he just didn't permit himself to show caring or any other emotions that would label him as 'weak'. He was still fully capable of these emotions, if he wasn't he would not be able to fake them so well.

He realized he would have to deal with the repercussions of his actions to his newest toy later. He had to make the boy trust him to gain all of the enjoyment from him, and when he had gotten all he could from the boy, Hadrius would not be able to live without him- making him a faithful follower.

It would be fun turning Hadrius into his follower, he thought of their earlier confrontation; yes, it would be fun. The boy had something about him that was rare, thinking back the last one who had that 'something' was Bellatrix and he had long since extinguished it. When he first met Bellatrix, she had defiance, yes that was what the boy had, although Bellatrix had very little and only lasted a week- she was now probably his most faithful follower. It truly was a win-win situation for him: he would "play" with his toy and when he was finished he would have a faithful follower. He marveled in the boy's characteristics, such defiance- it truly was strong. There was also his bravery- he would be a Gryffindor, if it not for his strong Slytherin qualities, such as his sharp responses and, his ability to mask his feelings, and he couldn't help but get the sense that the boy would be amazing at manipulating people. He seemed so pure, malleable and so very innocent, he doubted that is if he wasn't as good at reading people as he was, he wouldn't have noticed the slithering Slytherin qualities in the boy.

He would enjoy smothering the defiance in the boy, 'dirtying' his purity. He could tell the boy would be a useful follower.

He tuned out his thoughts as he walked into Lucius' study.

Hadrius was at a loss for words, nobody had ever given in to his requests when he persisted. He mentally face-palmed, wasn't that awfully stupid, he had just been extremely rude to his host. To be honest, he didn't know why he had even done it, he had not tried anything like this with his relatives' since he was five- after they gave him a harsh beating for persisting to ask for ice cream, and as Dudley had got some so why shouldn't he? He'd never question that again, after all it was made crystal clear that Dudley and him he were not equal.

He would never be that rude to Tom ever again, he really should be punished for his actions, although it seemed he was in the clear for now. He decided he'd just have to make it up to Tom, but the only way he could think of is to cook him something. Now he didn't really want to cook, after it had made Tom so angry that he wanted to, still… Tom did say he could. He'd just have to make it up to Tom, and prove that he really was a good enough to stay in the mansion.

He then realized he had been standing still in the hallway wearing only his pajamas, probably with a dumbfounded expression on his face, for about the past 5 minutes, thinking. He quickly went into "his" room. He scanned the surroundings for the dresser, or a pair of clothes lying around.

"His" room was large in size, containing a queen size four- poster, pushed up against the right wall, with a plush, green neatly-made bedspread, two large poufy cream colored pillows and soft green curtains. There were two chocolate colored brown nightstands on either end of the bed, both containing a small silver-grey lantern. There were two large windows that would fill the room with light, were it not for the dark green curtains that allowed only a small sliver of light to pass through. The room had a medium sized silver-cream davenport near the black stone fireplace. There was a large chocolate covered brown bookcase covering the majority of the south wall, it was filled with books, from new vivid short chapter books to large dust dust-faded tomes. Next to the fireplace was a bathroom, the floors were the same dark-grey as the room. The bathroom contained a white bathtub-shower combination with green tiles as the background, a pure white toilet and a counter with a silver sink. He left the bathroom noticing "His" Room was illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace located on the left side of the room; strangely there were no light sockets, or switches, or any light fixtures. This didn't bother him, though. He had always been accustomed to the dark; the cupboard light never worked as his relatives' 'weren't spending a dime for his enjoyment', however though he wasn't sure how a light could offer that much enjoyment. The north side of the room had a dark chocolate-colored desk with a plush green chair and a mahogany double dresser with seven drawers. He opened the longest drawer and found neatly folded socks, boxers, and duplicates of the silver-grey shirt, pants, pajamas he was wearing. He opened the second drawer, finding one neatly folded pitch black robe with green and silver trim; he then opened the remaining drawers to find them empty. Shrugging, he pulled out the black robe before changing into it, and then he examined his figure in the proper sized robes. He concluded that he liked wearing clothes that actually fit instead of the large harshly used hand-me-downs from Dudley.

He had been staying at his current lodgings for almost a week, this was the first day he had been able to move around with while only feeling minimal pain, and he'd mostly spent his conscious days reading. This was the first time he had seen Tom since they first met, he was unsure whether he was allowed to roam around until now- although he still wasn't entirely sure he was correct. He would have to show his appreciation to Tom; he wondered what food the tall, pale man liked.

He stepped out of "his" room, a thought coming to his head; I don't know where the kitchen is or anything in the kitchen. Am I allowed to use the kitchen? Can I use their dishes? Can I cook with their food? He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind; Tom knew what he was doing so if the man didn't want him to use anything he would have said so, right?

Despite the possibility of being rude again, he figured that it was what he was going to do, he would have to face the consequences -if any- later.

AN: I was thinking about making this part longer but I figured it was a good place to break off, besides you have all waited long enough. The ideas are still fresh in my head for the next part so I think I'll start writing the next chapter. Again please forgive me for the long wait; I think I finally got rid of my writers block. I would also like to thank my amazing editor weathergal08! Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: It's not mine.

* * *

Harry smiled fondly as he pulled the hot, chocolate chunk cookies from the oven; he truly loved to cook when he wasn't being forced to. He remembered once, when he was old enough to be forced to cook, that Petunia had been livid when she discovered that Harry had burnt dinner. Ever since that day he had always despised cooking, in fear of a repeat of his punishment – his hand still ached in memory of his palm being held to the glowing red burner.

He set the hot cookie sheet onto the cooling rack, gazing at the filled tiers as he had already made two batches. He turned off the oven before grabbing three polished, sparkling white plates, carefully organizing the cooled cookies into something that petunia would deem 'presentable'. He chewed a mouthful of cookie whilst setting the cookies on the counter. He hoped Tom liked chocolate chunk cookies, they seemed pretty universal and commonly liked, or at least tolerated - he had never met someone who didn't like chocolate chunk cookies, although he didn't know many people.

He scanned his surroundings, while waiting for the last batch of cookies to cool. The kitchen really was nice - simple and elegant. It was spacious with lots of counter and cupboard space; the cupboards were dark mahogany with a smooth marble counter top. All the cupboards and drawers had beautiful silver knobs, engraved on them was a slightly curled snake with bright emerald eyes. If the aristocratic elegance the mansion practically screamed was anything to go by, then the knobs were in fact real silver with actual emeralds for the snake's eyes. The floors were a stone black-grey that looked as though they would freeze anything that stepped set foot on them (although they were actually comfortably cozy, which led Harry to believe that the floors were heated). The walls were a grand grand-looking white with a dimmed muted emerald green strip of tiles that covered half the wall space between the counter and the cupboards. He turned to look at the large island in the middle of the kitchen, currently holding the baked cookies. It was the same style of the counters only it was longer so people could comfortably sit on a stool and eat.

He peeled off the cooled cookies, placing them on the only empty plate left before washing and cleaning everything that was used, returning the kitchen to its organized self.

Carrying two full plates of cookies, he returned to his room. He had left the other plate for as thanks of for 'allowing' him to use the kitchen.

Harry returned to his room and set the sparkling white plate on his desk, grabbing a handful of cookies in hopes that it would satisfy his growling stomach – a small part of him told him he shouldn't be eating cookies for lunch. Whatever.

* * *

Tom returned to the little Parselmouth's room with a goal of 'getting on his good side' or at the very least getting some trust. He looked around the room completely perplexed, where was Hadrius? Was he still cooking? It had been hours since he left, how could the boy still be cooking? Then he noticed a small form curled up on the davenport with _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" _lying on the boy's chest, a cookie in his hand. He had nearly missed the boy; if you weren't looking for him you would have skipped right over the form.

He noticed the two plates of cookies, one missing a few. Next to the cookies was a silver platter carrying the boys lunch, he concluded that the boy filled himself with cookies then fell asleep reading. He would have to teach Hadrius not to let his guard down and fall asleep in the middle of the day, did he really trust this place that much to fall asleep here completely defenseless? Maybe it wouldn't he be that hard to gain the raven-haired boy's trust. He reminded himself that the boy was almost eleven and probably knew nothing of magic and the threat this place posed, of course he would let his guard down he didn't see people as possible threats.

He reminded himself of why he was here, but he couldn't gain any trust if the boy was a sleep. Which This left him with the task of waking the boy while not tipping him off that it Tom was he who woke him, it would make the boy start coming up with theories about why he wanted to talk to him.

He placed himself nonchalantly on the plush desk chair, making a small gesture with his hand that brought a dusty brown tomb tome to his person. Tom flicked through the pages until he was a couple chapters in before tilting the book to hide the movements of his hand performing wandless magic.

He conjured a light brown feather that was speckled black, casting an invisibility charm on it before lowering it to his sleeping victim. He ran the tip of the invisible feather along the uncovered arm of his victim. Hadrius sleepily batted at the air before curling up more on the davenport, tucking away his bare arm against his chest. Tom nonchalantly flipped a page, giving the boy time to settle in. He lowered the feather to the boy's nose, slowly moving it back and forth, causing Hadrius to lightly face palm. The boy slowly lifted his hand clenching the feather, Tom quickly disappeared vanished the feather. He was sure the boy was going to wake up so he needed to get rid of the evidence; he peered out of the corner of his eye only to watch the boy turn once again and return to sleeping. Honestly he was sure the boy would be awake now, he must be a heavy sleeper. He waved his hand, watching as the boys back arched, the spell would make it feel like there was running water going down his back. Hadrius let out a soft moan before turning his body- a little too far- and landing on the floor with a thud. That was sure to wake him up. He flipped another page. Hadrius let out a soft moan and sleepily opened his eyes before looking at the davenport and tugging at the puffy green pillow. His victim curled up with his head resting on the pillow, returning to sleep.

This is hopeless, it's a wonder this boy was ever awake. Giving up, Tom decided to take a cookie; after all it wasn't like anyone was going to see him indulging in sweets, and he didn't have to worry about the boy - Tom was sure Hadrius could sleep through anything.

He took one bite from the cookie. He had missed lunch and this cookie was beckoning him. It had been years since Tom had any cookies -cookies were below a person of his status, they were for children not dark lords. Although he would never admit it, the cookie was really good. Either he really liked cookies or the boy had an amazing talent for cooking, - he was sure it was the latter. He grabbed another cookie, this time putting his status behind him and taking a huge bite. Hadrius bolted up, the cookie that was in his hand falling to the floor as he almost knocked down the davenport. He looked around the room wildly before his killing curse eyes locked on his form, the boy visibly calmed. Hadrius' eyes became impossibly bright and a huge smile almost split his face in two as he looked at Tom eating the cookie.

That was definitely unexpected, he was sure his surprise showed on his face, he contemplated obliviating the boy but then realized this whole incident would probably make the boy trust him more.

"You shouldn't chew so loudly, you woke me up," Hadrius sleepily teased.

He finished his cookie before replying. "You shouldn't be eating cookies for lunch." He couldn't help but compare himself to a typical mother for that sentence.

"Same goes for you, Mother."

Tom mentally smirked; nobody had ever stood up to him in such a way. Thinking of all the conversations he ever had he never could say that he was as interested and content in such a way as he was now. The boy was amazingly well good at holding up his end of a conversation, unlike everyone else who just lightly chatted with him and never spoke their mind in fear of opposing his views. He would never say it as it wouldn't be good leadership, but he enjoyed it when people opposed his views and spoke their mind. It felt good to have a conversation that wasn't so… tense. The defiance in the boy drew him in like a bug to a light, and the complete disrespect toward him for when calling him 'mother'. It was just so... fun. Fun. The childish and simple word was the perfect description. It told of his present and future with the boy, it would be fun, he could tell he was going to enjoy his toy a lot.

Tom looked out the window before casting a quick _tempus_. "I'm sorry Hadrius, but I have a meeting with Lucius."

* * *

Hadrius looked out at the sky, since when did the curtains get opened? He concluded it was around 4:00. "Isn't it a bit late for a meeting?"

"Normally, yes. Lucius was shopping with his family, though. He's only getting back now," Tom clarified.

He mouthed a silent "oh."

"I will see you later." Tom crossed the room and left with a small wave, being returned by Hadrius.

He oddly, he felt a bit… empty. He pushed away the feeling, picking up the book that still lay on the floor and resuming where he left off.

Hadrius was sitting on his large bed reading a book about potions; he couldn't help but wonder what store sold books like these…? He read one precaution sign: _wear dragon hide gloves while preparing to prevent burns_. Whoever wrote these books sure went all out in fantasy! He had been looking at all the books. Most were about magic it puzzled him because the books weren't by the same author, so why would so many people bother to make books about fictitious potions with crazy ingredients? He would never openly admit it but he would love for magic to be a real thing. It was fun to fantasize and a large part of him wanted it to be real but he knew his thoughts were childish and that such a thing like magic wasn't true. He would never say that magic wasn't real because he really did believe in it but at the same time he would never admit the fact that he believed -believing things like that was for children. Yet there were so many things that were unexplained or unexplainable with no or a very bogus reason explained with seemingly illogical reasoning.

Hadrius' thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door before a tall figure with a crooked nose and greasy black hair entered. He had been told by Tom had told him, during their earlier conversation, that somebody would come by later to give him a checkup. Even though he was expecting somebody the sudden interruption startled him causing him to yelp in surprise and tumble off the side of the bed. He slowly lifted his embarrassed flushed face to peak peek over the side of the bed; he met an amused face with a raised eyebrow.

Hadrius laughed stiffly. "I wasn't expected you so soon." It was true. Tom had only left around twenty minutes ago.

"I see," replied the greasy haired figure. "Let's get started."

He walked as quickly as he could without it looking like he was rushing to the other side of the bed where the man had begun to take small vials and assorted items out of his pitch black bag. He hadn't noticed the bag until the tall man started unloading items, the black color of the bag blended with the man's equally as dark robes. He remembered this man from when he first arrived here, but he could not remember his name, s… Senveres? Snevus? Saeveres? No, that wasn't it.

The man stood over him looking quite intimidating. He pulled out a clean smooth stick and started waving it and chanting odd verses. Hadrius didn't know a lot about medical care and he'd never been to the doctors or gone for a checkup but he was sure this wasn't how normal checkups were administered.

"Umm…Sir, excuse me if I'm wrong, but I don't think normal checkup's checkups include stick waving and chanting."

The man shot him an incredulous look before understanding crossed his face; he then abruptly stood and left the room with no further notice.

Hadrius was confused. He couldn't understand the recent events. Why had the man left? Where had the man gone? Was it something Hadrius said - he believed so? Why was he waving a stick and chanting? Was that normal checkup protocol? What was the man's name?

He was so confused and lost in thought that he didn't even notice the man re-enter the room until he had his nose in a book, literally, the man had come back with a book and pretty much shoved it in his face.

"Read this, it should explain a lot and answer the majority of questions you have," The greasy greasy-haired man informed him.

Hadrius took the offered book, he reading and read the title: '_Witchcraft and Wizardry: A Beginners Guide_.'

Where had the man gotten this? He didn't leave long enough to go to a shop. He pushed away the thought. Why had the first question to pop into his mind been that? He should be wondering about this 'Witchcraft and Wizardry' not where the man got the book from.

Hadrius looked up at the man who had resumed waving the stick and chanting, a question suddenly struck his mind and without thinking he blurted it out. "Why did you tell me to hide my identity?"

The man shot him a confused look before he seemed to realize something.

"What is your real name?" It was his turn to look confused, the man didn't even remember who he was.

"Harry Potter."

The man looked skeptical, he pushed the long-overdue-for-a-haircut raven colored hair from Hadrius' face, and he seemed to confirm something when he looked at the scar.

"Has anyone seen this scar, or knows you real identity besides me?" the pale figure questioned.

"No, my hair covers it. I haven't told anyone my real identity except for you." If the man was so concerned about someone seeing his scar, then maybe it was a good thing that his hair had grown out and partially obscured his vision. Petunia hadn't bothered to attempt to cut it again because the last time she had mutilated it the hair had re-grown to its usual length. He had concluded that if his hair wasn't mutilated then it would continue to grow.

The man nodded before sticking the smooth stick to the scar and chanting a verse. His scar felt like there was cool water running down it.

"Tell no one who you really are, and try to refer to yourself as Hadrius even when nobody is around, you need to be familiar with it."

This checkup was very unhelpful, if anything it made him more confused. What had the man done to his scar? Why should he keep his identity a secret?

"Severus, are you finished?" _Severus! That was the man's name_. The tall refined, pale figure of Tom entered the room, in his hands he carried a silver platter filled with assorted foods.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus bowed to Tom.

Lord? Was Tom royalty? Should he have treated Tom with more respect, and called him Lord as well?

"Hadrius, I brought you some dinner," Tom set the silver platter on his desk - he needed a table. "I am going to talk with Severus about your checkup results," Tom informed him. The two men left the room, leaving Hadrius alone with his dinner.

He didn't realize how hungry he was until he actually ate. He was starved, and after stuffing his gullet, he lay down in his large bed and started reading the book Severus gave him


End file.
